Origin
by SVUFanatic611
Summary: [oneshot] “Because, well, isn’t that what life’s about – living up to who you are...to your name?” Kathleen Stabler does some research and finds some interesting results concerning the meaning of her name.


Title: _Origin_

Author: SVUFanatic611

**A/n**: This one came to me when I decided to check the origin of my name, and in doing so, I stumbled across Kathleen, and it got me thinking. This is just a little drabble kind of thing, but I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: SVU and its associated characters are not mine. I have no claim on _Romeo and Juliet_, let alone Shakespeare himself, and absolutely no claim on the internet search engine miracle, Google.

Spoilers: a little for: 'Hooked' – when Kathleen mentions her ex-boyfriend, Jeff; 'Blood'; and 'Hysteria' – when she mentions her friend, Ashley

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"What's in a name? A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet." --Shakespeare, _Romeo and Juliet_, II, ii  
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**Glen ****Oaks ****High School****  
****Queens, ****NY****  
February 12, 2005  
-****12:34pm-**

_Kathleen Stabler's POV _

"And please don't forget that your assignments are due tomorrow. For those who have forgotten, or who have chosen to wait till the past minute to do this assignment, I'll repeat it. Look up the meaning and origin of your first and last name, and describe first, whether or not your parents chose that name specifically for you, and then describe whether or not you embody any qualities of that meaning and how you have or have not lived up to those qualities," says Mrs. Joseph, my English teacher.

We had been reading _Romeo and Juliet_ in class, and when we came across the line, "What's in a name?" she decided this assignment would be appropriate for the first grade of the new marking period. Wonderful.

Of course I had decided to wait to the last minute to do this assignment. This past weekend, I was with my dad, and I didn't have the heart to ditch him for this stupid assignment. I still stick by my choice, too. Go-carting, lunch, and shopping with my dad and my siblings beat looking up something as simple as a name.

But, tonight, I have soccer practice and a youth group leadership meeting. I won't have time to do this. But, I can't fail this assignment. I refuse to let my grade suffer because of this easy assignment. I'll let the final exam do that for me.

The lunch bell brings me out of my thoughts and jolts me back into reality. "Come on, Kat. It's pizza day and I'm starving," says Lindsay, my best friend. "Plus, I don't know how much longer I can stay in this classroom."

I smile at Lindsay. She always did have the ability to cheer me up when I was sad, confused, or upset. "Actually, Linds, as appetizing as that sounds, I can't." Lindsay frowns. "I know, I'm sorry, but I haven't started this assignment, and I won't have time tonight. I'm actually going to go to the library and start the research."

Lindsay nods and we both get up out of our seats, packing our bags. "Alright," she sighs. "You want me to save you a slice? You've got to be starving."

"No thanks," I smile. "I'm fine. I'll see in chem, alright?"

"You got it," she says, and we go in opposite directions as soon as we walk out the classroom door. I head for the library. This is a new thing for me, spending time at the library during lunch, and I've noticed that you're either one of two kinds of people in there. You're either a super-smart, top-of-the-class, valedictorian/salutatorian type who just can't seem to forget that extra-credit assignment or those extra questions, and must do them before next period.

Or you're the polar opposite. You're the type that forgot about the real assignment, let alone the extra credit one, and who can't afford to fail another class. So in a desperate attempt to salvage your grade, you spend the only free time you have trying to complete the paper, worksheet, study guide, and/or project to some minimal degree.

I'm not sure which category I fit into, but I can't focus on that right now. I've got to get something accomplished. Especially since I gave up pizza day for this.

I check in at the door, letting Mr. Clark know that I'm here, and he makes me sign in. I tell him I need to use a computer, and he assigns me the one in the corner. It has the fastest internet connection, and doesn't have as many problems that others do. I give Mr. Clark a smile; I always did like him. He made research and the stress of coming to the library easier on me. He returns the smile, wishing me good luck on whatever I'm working on, and he goes back to work.

I walk over, dropping my bag to the side, and I begin working on my assignment. I Google a website that will help me find the meaning of my name. I pull up the website, and type in 'Kathleen', hoping that this won't be too hard. It pops up, and I hate the results.

"Name: Kathleen; Gender: Female; Origin: Celtic/Gaelic; Meaning: Pure, Virginal."

Oh my God. Is thing kidding? My name means "pure and virginal"? I can't believe this. What were Mom and Dad thinking when they named me? Had they done this on purpose? Does this mean I'm destined to die a virgin? How the hell am I supposed to remain "pure"? What did living up to both those meanings mean? What did I have to give up, or do, in my life to live up to my name? Because, well, isn't that what life's about – living up to who you are; to your name?

But, now, this thing has gotten me thinking. Was I already living up to my first name? I mean, did I deny Jeff any sort of sexual activity other than kissing because my name had already predetermined my reactions to those kinds of situations? Or had that been because I knew Dad would kill me if he ever found out that I had had sex before marriage?

And had that been the reason I decided not to get back into the dating game, especially before Valentine's Day? Because I knew I'd be pressured to have sex, and I knew I wouldn't give the man what he wanted? Or was that because I had honestly stopped believing in love? I mean, how could someone believe in love when their parents separate after twenty years of a seemingly happy marriage?

Was that the reason I was so upset with my friend, Ashley, when she had gotten pregnant at fourteen? Because she was longer a virgin, whereas I had promised myself I wouldn't do it until I was ready? Or was it because we had done everything together, and she finally did something without me, and I was jealous?

And is that the reason I felt so horrible, and so self-loathing after my DUI incident? Because it took away my innocence and purity? That, after seventeen years of trying to be perfect, and trying to survive in my sister's long-cast shadow, I had slipped up, and I was no longer viewed as the well-behaved child? Or was it because I screwed up, and would have to face my parents afterwards?

Could my name and its meaning have that much control on my life without my knowing?

I decide that it's enough of my first name, and I decide to go for my last name. Maybe that will hold better results. The website I'm on won't do last names, so I find a more specific one, and it gives me a more detailed answer.

"Surname: Stabler; Origin: from Old French _estable _and from Latin_ stablis_; Meaning: steadfast, firm - literally: able to stand."

Well, that's not as bad.

I mean, it's not exactly correct, and it's a bit ironic, but it's not that bad. But, it does confuse me a little. If my last name implies that my family is strong and steadfast, then why hadn't my parents been strong enough to get through this separation? Why had they decided to give up on their marriage after twenty years? How could they do that? How come they hadn't been steadfast and firm? Why weren't they able to stand together as husband and wife?

But, then again, they had had their strong moments. I mean, Mom and Dad had at least made it to their twenty year mark. They survived a young pregnancy and marriage; having and raising four kids; providing shelter and other necessities for said children; getting and holding different jobs; living through stupid fights and disagreements. They had at least accomplished that much. Right? So, in a way, they had lived up that name, right?

And, even after the separation, Mom had remained strong. I never saw her cry for the loss of her marriage, and she still remained firm in her parenting. And, Dad…well, I haven't seen enough of him to know for sure, but he seemed to hold it together long enough for the job. That's another thing – my dad had been able to remain strong during his twelve years at Special Victims'. I know I'm young, but I'm not stupid. I know that's a hard job to have and a tough job to keep. Yet, he's remained strong enough to wake up every morning and face that everyday.

Even my siblings are strong. Maureen always perseveres, and overcomes any challenge; Liz is so smart, and never takes any kind of crap from anybody, especially from any boy who thinks less of her because she is a girl; and Dickie, physically stronger than anything else, remains firm in any belief he has, and always seems to carry a sense of confidence around with him.

What about me? What had I done to live up to the Stabler name? Nothing comes to mind.

Surely I had done something that signified my name. Certainly, I had acted in such a way on something that represented how strong my name was, how strong my family was.

I mean, I had been the oldest in the house since Maureen left to live at the dorms, and I had taken on more responsibilities. In the spring when I graduate, I'll be among the few graduating Summa Cum Laude, and I'll be making a speech as the student government vice-president. I was also the top scorer on my soccer team, and I had received state recognition for some sportsmanship award. I was on the yearbook committee, and some other clubs and sports. All those counted, right? They all represented how steadfast I've been, right? Not really.

Well, then how had I lived up to my name? How did I embody any of those qualities? I had done a pretty good job of living up to my first name so far in my life, but how had I represented my last name? I mean, symbolizing what my first name meant had seemed so simple. It had happened without me even knowing. Some would even call it instinctual. But, why hadn't my last name been so easy? Why hadn't it come as naturally as my first name did?

And then I realize that my family had had a pretty good start in representing their name, and that I could follow those examples. I could walk in those footsteps that seemed etched in my family's history. They were already predetermined, and all I had to do was continue on that path.

Maybe it's not my first name that I should be concerned with. I shouldn't be worried about setting an example for other people named Kathleen. Working to represent my first name in actuality, only benefited me. But, working to signify my last name benefited my entire family. I should focus on my last name. I should focus on the name my mom and dad gave me; the name that binds me to each one of my siblings and the one that can really define not only who I am, but who my family is.

I could help more around the house; I could spend more time with Liz and Dickie; I could call Maureen more often and we could go our for lunch; I could help the twins more; I could help my family through this tough time that is sure to end in divorce.

Yeah. That sounds good. It's not my first name I've got to concentrate on; it's my last name.

"Kathleen! Come on! Let's go!" says Lindsay from the back door of the library. Her voice penetrates the silence of the library, and she does receive a few menacing glances for doing so. I look back at her, and give her a questioning look. "Come on!" she pleads. "Miller is supposed to be giving a pop quiz in chem today! We gotta be there on time!" she says with a bit of worry in her voice.

"Linds, you go ahead, and I'll catch up. I've gotta get out of the website and everything."

"Alright. See ya there," she says, and she's gone.

I exit out of the program, and place my notebook in my backpack, slinging it over my shoulder. I say goodbye to Mr. Clark, thanking him, and head to the chemistry classroom. I say a prayer to God, asking Him to help me through this quiz, but I know that in the end, I'll get through it. I always do. Maybe credit for that should go to my last name.

Maybe, just maybe, this English assignment isn't going to be as bad as I thought it was.

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A/n – hope you enjoyed, and I love hearing what you think, so drop me a review. Good, bad, ugly, and indifferent. I like to read them all. : Thanks! Until next post, adios! –Jessica


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